


He Still Had Time Until Morning

by Lots_of_Little_Pink_Clouds



Series: Original Vignettes & Short Stories [1]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Character Death, F/M, Implied Necrophilia, Murder, PWP, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rape/Non-con Elements, Vampire Sex, Vampires, all the stops are coming out for this one
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-19
Updated: 2017-06-19
Packaged: 2018-11-16 06:16:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,519
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11248017
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lots_of_Little_Pink_Clouds/pseuds/Lots_of_Little_Pink_Clouds
Summary: In the distance, streetlamps cast her shadow onto the sidewalk, and the skirt of her dress flutters in the wind, carrying to him the scent of daisies and vanilla, sex and booze.She stumbles, swaying from side to side, feet wobbling against concrete, six-inch stilettos in her hand and stockings ripped at the heels. The threads of her hair ghost around, down, and past her shoulders, silver tinted blue in the moonlight, and her fair skin glowed like melted ice. The pale blue of her dress paled in comparison to her, the vision of beauty that stood before him.He wonders what she would look like covered in blood.





	He Still Had Time Until Morning

**Author's Note:**

> Warning(s): Murder, rape, and implied necrophilia at the end. I’m so sorry.

The sounds of the night fills the air around him; crickets creaking, wind rustling the leaves on trees, grass moving in the faintest of breezes. A cold creeps forward in the darkness, pale, empty, soulless, stalking through shadows and away from the streetlamps that line the road in perfect, even spaces. The moon is high in the sky; the sky cloudless, clear, and filled with the faint glitter of stars, blocked out by florescent lights that glow from the city.

In the darkness, he is guided by a single beacon of hope, a single ray of light, a single shred of humanity, and all at once everything comes back to him, the sounds of his mother’s soothing alto droning as she reads to him, the sizzling of burgers on the grill outside, his father’s booming, boisterous laughter, and then red and gore, blood, smoke, fire, everything burning, and the feel of someone’s arms scooping him up, holding him close, embracing him, and the smoke filling, scorching, searing his lungs, and he’s being burned from the inside out, then suddenly cold, the only thing left behind is night, darkness, the faint breeze from the wind, and a burning hunger, aching, consuming, destroying him, destroying his mind and soul, leaving any rational thought behind.

There! In the distance, streetlamps cast her shadow onto the sidewalk, and the skirt of her dress flutters in the wind, carrying to him the scent of daisies and vanilla, sex and booze.

She stumbles, swaying from side to side, feet wobbling against concrete, six-inch stilettos in her hand and stockings ripped at the heels. The threads of her hair ghost around, down, and past her shoulders, silver tinted blue in the moonlight, and her fair skin glowed like melted ice. The pale blue of her dress paled in comparison to her, the vision of beauty that stood before him.

He wonders what she would look like covered in blood.

He stalks forward, creeping through darkness and the black of night, closer, closer, and closer still to the single figure that glowed so beautifully, so perfectly, so deliciously in the gloom of the moon. Her scent, daisies and vanilla, sex and booze, mixed with the spicy sweet aroma of her blood wafts into his nose and he sighs, helplessly intoxicated.

It calls to him, pulls him, her sweet blood singing and soothing the ever consistent tremor in his gut. The aching emptiness of his soul becomes less noticeable as adrenaline courses through his ears, his heart, not beating, but still present, leaps into his throat, and his mouth waters. His lips part as his fangs grow, poking his tongue and sending a sharp flash of pain through him, making him shudder. His pants tighten and he moans, deciding that he’s waited long enough to make his move.

He rushes, darting towards her, the hunger claiming him, seducing him with its appeal. He grabs her by her beautiful silver hair, hand covering her mouth as he pulls her into the relative safety of a nearby alley. She squirms, screaming, moaning into his palm, her luscious body twisting and turning as she struggles to get away. Her heels are dropped and are forgotten on the street just outside.

He shoves her backwards into the wall, grabbing her flailing wrists with one hand, pinning them by her head, and pulling on her hair, pulling her head back and out of the way with the other, his teeth latching onto her neck.

He sucks hard enough to make her gasp, her sweet, delicious blood – it tastes just as spicy as it smells – flowing into his mouth, down his throat, into his ravenous stomach. The sound makes him groan, the warmth dripping down his chin, onto his tattered shirt, onto the concrete floor of the alley. He presses his body against hers, pinning the rest of her to the wall, her movements becoming shaky, jerky, weaker.

Against her neck, he grins, his feral smile coated in red, his teeth elongated, pointed, glinting even in the darkness of the alleyway.

“Well, aren’t you a sweet thing,” he murmurs, “Such a sweet, delicious thing. Perfect, you’re absolutely perfect, you know that? Beautiful, sweet, delicious…”

He doesn’t know what he’s saying, but at this point, he doesn’t particularly care. Instead, he keeps whispering to her, his voice feather light, a breeze amidst the silence that surrounds them. He kisses her neck, sinking his fangs in again, sucking hard, and she shudders, gasps, moans. The sound makes his pants grow tighter, and he stops.

“Can you tell what you’re doing to me?” he asks, pressing his lips against her ear. His eyes flicker to hers and all he sees is blank, pale green staring back at him, listless and unwary.

He smirks.

His hand, still tangled in her silky hair, loosens its grip and lets go. Her head remains tilted back, limp against rough brick. Satisfied, he presses harder against her, his hand roughly grabbing her breast, rolling the hardening nipple between his thumb and forefinger. She stirs, blinking, her mouth parting, and groans, rolling her hips against his own. He gives a shuddering gasp, her warmth pressing against the heat straining from his jeans.

“Such a slut,” he mumbles, “You want this, don’t you? Such a fucking delicious girl like you likes it rough, don’t you?”

He squeezes, the hand on her wrists tightening enough to bruise – he hears a snap and a moan of pain as her wrists break – the hand on her breast pinching harder and he grinds his pelvis against her own. The sound she makes is music to his ears.

“Fuck,” he hisses, grinning, his teeth making their way back to her throat, marking and scarring her pale skin. The hand on her breast lets go, moving down her body and pulling up the skirt of her pretty blue dress. He presses a finger against the rough material of her stockings, the soaked silk of her thong, rubbing insistently against her clit.

“So wet,” he purrs, “The little slut likes this, don’t you?”

She mumbles incoherently, her head pushing into the brick wall behind her, her hips rutting against his hand. He laughs, moving it away to the sound of her disappointment. He grabs a handful of her ass, squeezing and pulling the lower half of her body flush against him and grinds, his moans joining hers.

But it’s not enough.

He swears, letting go of her entirely to pull down the fly of his pants, to push down the hem of his boxers. He pulls his long, hard cock out and rips the string of her panties and her itchy stockings, the flimsy articles fluttering to the floor, landing in the puddle of blood beneath them.

Then, he grabs her hips, shoving himself inside of her.

With a growl, he pounds into her. His dick pulls all the way out before snapping back in until he is balls deep inside her, evoking guttural moans and sharp gasps from his victim. Despite her loss of blood, she still responds, her arms grabbing onto his shoulders, her wrists bruised black and blue and broken, her head thrown back, banging against the brick wall; he reaches up with one hand to grab her hair, pulling her head back. He thrusts harder when he feels warm blood coat his fingers. His rough thrusts fuck screams out of her, the sticky remains of his feeding coating them both in red.

Then, his teeth sink into her throat one final time.

He sucks, warm blood going down his throat, his thrusts becoming frantic, almost at his release. Her screams reach a fever pitch, her walls tightening around his still hard, still pounding dick, and she goes limp, her pants becoming softer and softer. By the time he finishes, pulling out and cumming all over her exposed cunt, she is still, her warm body becoming colder.

“Such a fucking slut,” he mumbles as he wipes the sweat from his brow, licks the blood from his fingers. His fangs retract once all the liquid is gone.

After licking the puncture wound on her neck and watching it close up, leaving no trace, he drops her body onto the ground, where she lands in the puddle of their combined fluids.

He stares at her, her legs wide apart, her thighs scratched and bleeding, her wrists bruised and broken. The remains of her black thong and stockings are on the floor, soaked in the bloody mess. Blood dyes her silver hair, whether from the wound on her head or from the blood on the ground, he isn’t sure. Her pale blue dress tore during their activities, he doesn’t recall when exactly, her breasts exposed to the cold night air. Her throat, dotted in bite marks and bruises, was thoroughly ravaged from his feeding and attentions.

He had never seen something so beautiful. Or so arousing.

His cock twitched again and he smirked. He kicked over her body so that she was lying on her front, stripping off his pants and boxers as he went.

He still had time until morning.

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: I'm actually not sure where this came from - I've been itching to write something non-school related for a while now and kind of needed to get some plot bunnies out so I can focus on other fics.
> 
> Then THIS can into existence.
> 
> Some of the dialogue from the MC is pretty meh and the explicit stuff probably needs work (this is my very first smut-like content, so please excuse it for now). Other than that, I'm more or less proud of how this turned out, if a bit disturbed by the end result.
> 
> Suggestions for improvements are highly appreciated.


End file.
